Where's my AARP card?

So.

I'll be 44 this year. 

I've written before about certain sometimes age-related issues:  infertility in my late 30s; bifocals; ill-advised 40-something cartwheels; my skin on my face feeling loose sometimes; being middle aged.

I've written ad nauseum about struggling to lose weight. 

So want to hear some more TMI?

Lately, I've been having other weird symptoms....general irritability, hot flashes, trouble sleeping, bloating, moderate to severe cramping....oh, and a period that's been absent for going on three months (which followed years of an irregular menstrual cycle).   And some other symptoms that I won't go into great detail about that involve dryness. 

Are you feeling uncomfortable by my over-sharing yet?

This is kind of worse than when I owned my stress incontinence, I admit.  (Which is totally gone, by the way.  Whoop!)

The problem is that these symptoms can indicate a lot of different health issues and the only way to figure out what's wrong is to go to the doctor.  You could have thyroid disease. You could have a food or chemical sensitivity. You could have a hormonal imbalance.

So when you do go to the doctor, you need to be clear about your symptoms and your suspicions about your condition.

So that's what I did a few weeks ago.

And he talked to me for a long time about my symptoms and my distress about them.  He told me his suspicion, but didn't immediately diagnose, because only blood work could tell us for sure what was going on.  So he took lots of blood (lots of blood) for lots of blood work.  And he ordered what turned out to be the most grueling sonogram I've ever had in my life to ensure all the internal girl structures were sound...no tumors, etc.

And in the end, I got a diagnosis:  everything about me is normal...for a  perimenopausal woman.

My estrogen level was extremely low.  My lutenizing hormone and follicle stimulating hormone levels were quite high.

This is my reproductive system doing the job of dumping the remaining eggs from my ovaries in preparation for my senescence, in which I will buy a comfortable rocker, place it on my front porch and wave my cane at those darned kids that keep getting on my lawn. 

Oh, wait. I have a three year old. So none of that's happening before at least 2040.  (I hope.)

But this is the beginning of the end of my fertile (I use that term loosely given my history) years.

That's all. 

Perimenopause can last for years, the doctor said.  A decade, sometimes.

Yippee.

You can still get pregnant during perimenopause. 

:-/

Perimenopause isn't menopause. It's the slow and annoying approach to menopause.

But there are treatments.

Oh yeah, I'm talking about hormone replacement therapy.

Sure, I'm worried about the increased risk of breast cancer if I take hormones.

But when you're constantly irritable and in moderate to severe pain from the cramping more often than not....

When you have to check with your husband whether the room is really hot or you're just having your own personal summer....

When you're pissed off all the time....

Well, you think you might give HRT a whirl . . . at least in the beginning.

Fortunately, for me, for now, all that means is that I now take a low dose birth control pill.

And it has made all the difference in my well-being:  more energy, less cranky, no hot flashes, no more cramps.  Everything has improved.  So, for now, I'm happy as a middle-aged clam to be back on the pill.  (Hey, and thanks to the Affordable Care Act, it's absolutely free!  Bonus.)

The one thing I can tell you for certain about my reaction to this new stage of life that I'm entering is that I'm not sad about being perimenopausal. This is a normal part of aging.  And I'm fine with aging. 

Hey, some people go gray or bald before they're 30 or 40.  So I'm heading into "the change" a tad earlier than others.  Big deal.

I don't feel less female.

I don't feel less valuable.

I don't feel less attractive.

I'm just getting older.

And that's okay.

 I'm still me, and I like that. 

Cheerleader Feminism

NFL cheerleaders are fighting back against the unfair pay they have, historically, received for, er, the privilege of being NFL cheerleaders. Because that's essentially the argument from management:  you get the privilege of being associated with the team and being thought of as the hottest chicks in town -- you might even marry a rich dude -- so, really, you should thank us for the privilege.

Some of these ladies get paid as little as $105 a season, while being subjected to jiggle tests and fines for gaining five pounds.  Some teams even have bizarre personal (and we're talking very personal) hygiene rules.  And the teams and their owners meanwhile make millions, a portion of which may be attributable to the cheerleaders' work.

On the latest edition of the Double X Gabfest Hanna Rosin quipped, off-hand (so I don't hold her responsible for the opinion only for reporting it), that it is harder for feminists to get behind cheerleaders than, for instance, strippers. Strippers sometimes describe themselves as artists, she said. And strippers are edgier.

Feminist -- old line feminists, I suppose -- like an in your face hyper-sexualized traditionally female profession, but only if it's edgy. 

But why?!

Look at the patronizing rationale for not paying NFL cheerleaders a decent, minimum wage. Why are old-line feminists not outraged by such belittling treatment of young women?

Often NFL cheerleaders are college students, ill-equipped to fight back, unschooled in the cruel world. Their cheerleader contracts may be the first employment contract they've ever signed. They probably don't have the document reviewed by independent legal counsel. Why doesn't the "sisterhood" stand up for them?

Is it because NFL cheerleading seems fakey?  Seems smarmy?  Too middle America?  Too mainstream?  Maybe the cheerleaders deserve it?  Maybe they're asking for the unfair treatment?  Surely, no right thinking feminist would think that way. Not and also fight for the rights of edgy, arty strippers. 

I guess I should pause to say, perhaps superfluously, that I'm not a huge fan of NFL cheerleaders.  Or the NFL. Or football in general.

I don't mind what I think of as "real" cheerleaders -- those acrobats of the fields. Those ladies (and gentlemen) are straight up impressive athletes.  But booty shaking, booby jiggling, pom-pon waving pin-up girls -- I'm not a fan.  I don't care if they are considered "ambassadors of the team."  (I'm not all that into the "team," anyway.)

But I'm a feminist and, by damn, if we feminists can line up for fair treatment for strippers, I see no reason why we cannot line up for an equal wage and fair treatment for NFL cheerleaders.

They deserve to be paid for the work that they do. They deserve at least minimum wage.  They deserve more.  They deserve to be afforded a modicum of human dignity while on the job. And I do not think that being considered a "hot girl" substitutes for monetary compensation or excuses ill-treatment by their employers.  Neither should anyone else.  Go team.

Another One With Pictures